


Grown Up Christmases

by unproductivepeanut (peanutmeg)



Series: Klaine Advent 2015 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, Gen, M/M, klaine advent 2015
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutmeg/pseuds/unproductivepeanut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Klaine Advent 2015 Challenge, after I got messages from two anons on tumblr asking me to participate. The stories in this set are canon compliant, falling in some vague future in the Glee timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01 - Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't actually going to participate in the challenge, but I can hardly say no to two anons. I'm afraid my brain doesn't know how to limit itself to drabbles, though, so have some longer than 100 words ficlets. Also, thanks to jessicamdawn and slayerkitty for their awesome beta skills!

Klaine Advent

01 – Anniversary

 

 

The Hudson-Hummel house feels warmer than usual, and Blaine hurriedly shrugs off his coat - and helps Kurt with his - before placing them on the hook by the door. The warmth is welcome after the chill of the December air, although Blaine could do without the flush he feels spreading in response. Kurt seems less affected, however, if his bright laugh and quick words with Burt are any indication.

 

Blaine wishes he adjusted as easily.

 

In New York, in their new apartment with the curtains they chose together and the fridge that they joke has a gremlin inside given its hums and vibrations, Blaine exists with Kurt in their mostly-happily married bubble. They’re Kurt-and-Blaine just starting on their lives.

 

It’s harder to remember that, in Burt and Carole Hudson-Hummel’s house.

 

Still, Blaine finds it difficult to hold on to his melancholy thoughts when he’s being pulled into a hug, Carole’s arms firm around his shoulders. Beside him, he can barely make out Kurt’s frame around Burt. The moment blurs briefly, and Blaine suddenly sees Kurt back in his Dalton uniform, welcoming Blaine with a shy smile as Burt stands beside him – event the scent of cookies is the same.

 

Blaine freezes.

 

Uncertainty fills him, and the present carefully hidden in his jacket pocket  that had seemed cute in New York suddenly seems wrong, childish and silly as memories of previous Christmases in this house war with Kurt’s shouts that they wouldn’t work, that Blaine couldn’t be a member of the family.

 

Carole steps back, and Blaine takes a moment to glance at his wedding ring as he lowers his arms. He offers a smile and slightly shakes his head; he and Kurt are married – he just needs to focus on that. A beep sounds over the holiday music, and Carole hurries away with a mutter about the oven finally being preheated.

 

Kurt’s gone from his side moments later, vanishing into the kitchen with a shout to Burt that even Christmas cookies can be low-fat if made correctly.

 

Blaine sighs before lifting the bags dropped at his feet, carefully pulling the straps across his shoulders and balancing the three duffels as he heads for the stairs. Kurt didn’t mean to leave him, regulating him to the hired help.

 

He’s being ridiculous, he knows.

  
Kurt’s old room leaves Blaine feeling off-kilter, the old vanity and bedspread reminding him of hours spent doing homework and stealing kisses while the missing photos and stack of folded sweaters in the corner serve as proof of times changed as much as the bags at his feet. Mannheim Steamroller drifts up the stairs, the _forte_ managing to push the sound even into Kurt’s old bedroom. Blaine sits on the bed, sighs as he raises his left hand.

It’s the first time he’s entered the room as Kurt’s husband, and he feels unsettled.

“Hey.”

He startles at Kurt’s voice, the music having hidden his steps. He feels guilty, though he can’t begin to say why.

“Hi.”

“I was wondering where you ran off to. I just went to the kitchen to show Carole that recipe we found…” Kurt’s voice trails off, and Blaine shifts as Kurt moves to sit beside him, his eyes creased with worry. “Is everything okay? Are you not feeling well? You seemed okay on the plane and –”

“I’m fine, Kurt.” Blaine smiles, though the action feels off, awkward in a way it hasn’t been for months.

“I thought we were past you pretending for me.” The words are soft, but hold a touch of wariness and Blaine winces.

“It’s not –” Blaine stops, lets out a breath before turning to face Kurt, reaching out and clasping his hand. What is it about Lima that undoes all the progress they’ve made?

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the brightly wrapped box. “Happy Anniversary.”

Kurt’s free hand stills an inch above the present. “Blaine, honey, we didn’t get married in December. And we never started dating then, either.”

“No, I know. I just –” Blaine pauses and offers a self-deprecating smile. “I made a promise, a few actually, two years ago. And I know I couldn’t – I mean, last year –”

“Oh my God.” Kurt’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he stares at the box.

Blaine carefully drops the box into Kurt’s outstretched hand before standing and bending to unzip his bag, pushing aside sweaters and pajama pants to unearth a small Christmas tin, complete with snowmen. “There’s snickerdoodles and some chocolate frosted sugar cookies,” Blaine carefully sets the tin on the bed, “I did promise to make them.” Kurt still hasn’t moved, and Blaine feels his smile fall – it _was_ silly, after all. “You can take it back,” Blaine nods to the box, “I still have the receipt –”

Kurt stops Blaine’s words with a kiss, jolting forward so suddenly Blaine rocks with the weight, his left arm the only thing keeping them upright even as his right wraps around Kurt’s shoulders.

“Don’t you dare,” Kurt murmurs, and Blaine smiles at the breathless tone.

“You haven’t even opened –”

“Well,” Kurt’s tone turns teasing, “I’ll just have to fix that, won’t I?” He slips out from Blaine’s hold, grabbing the small box with a wink and slides a finger under the paper.

His lips may still be tingling, but Blaine feels his shoulders tense as Kurt slowly peels back the wrapping.

“Blaine –”

“Hopefully it’s more fashionable than gum wrappers.”

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with that ring,” Kurt laughs, pulling the [bracelet](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/49/ae/df/49aedf479eb203db3823f956e8d1e53f.jpg) from the box. “Now, do your husbandly duty and help me unhook this.”

Blaine huffs a laugh and leans forward. “I thought my husbandly duty was to –”

“Not if you finish that sentence, it’s not.”

Blaine wisely turns his comment into a smile, unhooking the clasp and setting the bracelet on Kurt’s right wrist.

“Thank-you,” Kurt keeps the words quiet, “Do I even want to know how you managed to find a bow-tie bracelet?” Kurt then shakes his head at the question, continuing before Blaine can form a response. “But,” Kurt pauses, turns and meets Blaine’s gaze, “Blaine – this was so, so wonderful. Why…why were you upset, earlier?”

“It was silly really,” Blaine murmurs, only to sigh when Kurt leans forward, obviously intent of receiving a more thorough explanation. Blaine takes a moment to gather his thoughts before Kurt takes his hands again, stealing his attention. “Just – memories, I guess.”

Kurt’s eyes narrow in confusion. “I thought – I always had happy memories, I guess…I thought you did too?”

“I do!” Blaine rushes to ease the hurt in Kurt’s voice, words almost tripping over one another in his haste to explain. “I love you – I love your family and this house and all the times we spent here. I just – I can’t help but remember how different it was last year, too.”

“Blaine,” Kurt ducks his head briefly, taking a breath before tightening his hold on Blaine’s hands. “Last year was bad, it was, but I’ve already had more fun in the fifteen minutes we’ve been here than the two months I spent here a year ago. I wish –” Kurt offers a shy smile, “I wish I could take it back, _all of it_. But since we don’t have Brittany’s time machine we just have to deal with only looking to the future. But,” Kurt raises their hands, makes sure their wedding rings catch the dim light of the window, “we have the rest of our lives. We _both_ promised that.”

“I know!” The words are slightly louder than Blaine had intended, and he offers an embarrassed shrug before continuing. “I just – I had your present, and it seemed like a good idea in New York, but it’s different here. I just started to worry –”

“Don’t.” Kurt shakes his head and stands, seemingly ignoring Blaine’s hum of confusion. “I had planned to make you wait, you know. But,” Blaine watches as Kurt unzips his own bag, carefully moving aside scarves and socks, “I think it’s more fitting, now. Besides,” Kurt tosses Blaine the professionally wrapped box, “they fit with the theme.”

“ _They_?” Kurt just smiles and Blaine takes it as the instruction it is, opening his present with far less care than Kurt had his. “Kurt –”

“I hope you know I promised the same that day, even if it wasn’t aloud,” Kurt reaches forward, pulling the [bow-tie cufflinks](http://www.cufflinks.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/800x800/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/o/b/ob-stb-s3-ct.jpg) from their cotton cushion. “So I figure last year was our fluke; every couple has one, right? Well, now we’ve had ours, so you better keep me happy with cookies and promises because it’s expected, now.”

“You’re very sure of yourself,” Blaine teases, admiring the cufflinks against the stark whit of his shirt. “Aren’t you the one who just reminded me that December _isn’t_ our anniversary?”

“Not in the traditional sense, maybe,” Kurt smiles, gives Blaine a quick, chaste kiss before continuing, “but it can be ours – ours to celebrate without an audience.”

“Just you, me, and the cookies?”

“Don’t forget the bow ties,” Kurt laughs, pulling Blaine into a hug. “We can’t forget them.”

“Never.” Blaine promises, holding on to Kurt until his husband leans back minutes later.

“As much as I’d love to stay up here, I actually came to get you; Dad said something about a trip to the store with his favorite son-in-law.”

“You just don’t want to brave the crowds.”

“That too,” Kurt smiles, leaning back on the bed. “But he did ask for you, so you should probably head down before he gets ideas.”

“He wouldn’t –” Blaine jumps back in shock even as he feels the blush staining his cheeks. “We’re in _his house_ –”

“Blaine, sweetie,” Kurt’s voice is saccharine sweet, “that didn’t stop us before, and now we’re married and share an apartment in New York. Besides,” he offers Blaine a teasing smile, “he found you asleep in my bed less than a month after meeting you.”

“I should take back the cookies,” Blaine mutters as he steps for the door, “you certainly aren’t on the ‘Nice List’ this year.”

“I love you too,” Kurt sings from the bed.

“Have fun unpacking,” Blaine calls from the doorway, “I love you!”

He makes it to the landing before a shout makes him pause.

“You made bow-tie shaped _cookies_ , too?!”

Blaine smiles the rest of the way down the stairs.

 


	2. 02 - Broadway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas and Broadway aren't the magical combination the boys dreamed of, unfortunately. Luckily, Kurt has warm blankets and the world's sweetest husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to jessicamdawn and slayerkitty for the quick and amazing betaing.

Klaine Advent 02

Broadway

Kurt enters the apartment with a sigh, wishing for nothing more than to change into more comfortable clothes (after an eighteen hour day he’s allowed to crave sweat pants) and curl up with an extraordinarily fluffy blanket.

Preferably with his husband.

He’s alone though, evidenced by the silent apartment, dark save for the light above the stove.  He drops his bag by the sofa, leaving off the lights as he crosses to the bedroom – he grabbed a soft pretzel on break earlier, and he’s tired enough to count that as dinner. He’d certainly eaten it late enough.

Twenty minutes later he’s cursing the poor heating in the apartment as he steps out of the steam-filled bathroom and into his chilled bedroom. He hurries to his bed, burrowing under the blankets, with two piled on top of the comforter and another wrapped like a cape around his shoulders.

He leans back against the pillows and turns on his tablet, skipping his email and instead opening the book he’s been meaning to read for the past month. Four pages in he hears the door creak open and the soft tread of Blaine’s footsteps.

“Kurt?”

“In the bedroom,” he calls, dropping his tablet beside him and stretching to turn on the light on Blaine’s end table; the soft light from his own too dim to be beneficial on the opposite side of the bed.

“Hey,” Blaine looks as tired as he feels, and Kurt feels a surge of protectiveness as Blaine sighs and musters one last swell of energy to push off the doorframe and cross to the bed, sitting on the edge to toe off his shoes. “There a reason you’re huddled up and sitting in the dark?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Not really, just tired.” He sighs as Blaine continues to get ready for bed, taking a moment to appreciate Blaine’s brief state of shirtlessness before he pulls on a worn NYU sweatshirt. “Rehearsal was a bitch today.”

“Isn’t it always?” Blaine’s voice holds a hint of teasing, though exhaustion colors it more, and he crawls in beside Kurt moments later, moving until he’s leaning against him, the blanket-cape now covering two.

Thinking of his wish earlier, Kurt wonders if Blaine really can read his mind.

“It is,” Kurt answers Blaine’s question. “It even took away our Christmas.” Kurt sighs, reaching for Blaine’s hand, “Who knew Broadway was so cruel?”

“We’re still having Christmas, Kurt,” Blaine nods to the little tree barely visible through the doorway, “our first with just us. And,” Blaine tightens his hold and Kurt drops his head to rest on Blaine’s shoulder, “technically we’re having two Christmases.”

Kurt huffs a laugh. “New Years is Christmas now?”

“Sure,” Blaine shrugs and Kurt lets his head rise with the movement, “that’s when we’re celebrating with family, and that’s what’s important, right?”

“It is,” Kurt hears the annoyance in his voice, hopes Blaine’s awake enough to realize it’s not directed to him. “It’s important and we don’t get it because Broadway is demanding its _Chorus Member 4_ and _Townsperson 6_.”

“We’re paying our dues, Kurt.”

Kurt gestures out to their apartment. “You mean we weren’t already by being starving artists?”

“Kurt.”

“I know, I just –” Kurt sighs, turning his face into Blaine’s shoulder. “This is the first Christmas I won’t spend with my dad.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine moves, pulling Kurt into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Kurt drops a kiss to Blaine’s cheek, “I’m glad we made it, well, we’re getting there. And we’re both here. I just…” Kurt pauses before leaning back and meeting Blaine’s gaze. “Broadway sucks.”

“Broadway sucks,” Blaine agrees with a laugh, “I won’t tell Rachel.”

Kurt hums in agreement. “It’ll be our secret.” He’s finally warm, caught between the blankets and Blaine, and he takes a moment to relish the feeling. “So, two Christmases?”

Blaine nods. “It’s our recompense” he murmurs against Kurt’s hair, “since Broadway sucks.”

Kurt dissolves into laughter.

 


	3. 04 - Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt comes home to find Blaine's had a difficult day. Luckily, Kurt's an expert at cheering up his husband. Also, there are brownies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to jessicamdawn and slayerkitty for their quick (and awesome) beta of this story.

Klaine Advent

04 - Day

 

 

 

The scent of chocolate greets Kurt as he enters the apartment, and he smiles at the knowledge that for the first time in a week Blaine has beaten him home. The chocolate – brownies, judging by the smell – comes as a particularly delicious bonus. Carefully shutting the door behind him and placing his keys on the hook, Kurt drops his bag to untangle himself from his coat before heading further in to the apartment.

 

He stops by the sofa, however, his bag dropping with a slight thud as he takes in the sight of Blaine in the kitchen.

 

A pan of brownies sits cooling on top of the stove, but Blaine seems oblivious to them, standing a foot away in front of a mixing bowl, looking lost. His unkept hair and worn, ill-fitting sweatshirt do nothing to dispel the air of defeat hanging off him like a cloak.

 

“Blaine?”

 

“Kurt! You’re home!” Blaine startles away from the counter, crossing the small space to pull Kurt in for a hug. Kurt drops his head onto Blaine’s shoulder, relishing the comfort before he registers the slight hitch in Blaine’s breath and how the hug borders on desperate.

 

“Blaine?” Kurt leans back enough to meet Blaine’s eyes, but he keeps his arms still, trapping Blaine in a loose imitation of the hug from moments before. “What’s wrong? You made brownies at ten at night and you’re wearing one of my old sweatshirts.” At Blaine’s slightly alarmed look Kurt hurries to continue, “I don’t mind – I’m pretty sure this,” Kurt moves his arm then, showing off his wedding ring, “means we share everything, but you don’t normally make a habit of baking while wearing my clothes.”

 

Kurt forces himself to be patient in the ensuing silence; he keeps his breathing even, and looks at Blaine. The sweatshirt really _is_ horribly unflattering on Blaine, the shoulders too wide and the sleeves a touch too long – the ends covered in specs of chocolate and what Kurt assumes is flour – and combined with the loose array of Blaine’s hair and his socked feet Kurt is seized with a sense of protectiveness. Blaine looks so small.

 

And hurt.

 

For a moment, Kurt silently curses NYADA for his class schedule and the theatre for its rehearsal: the demands on his time have left him coming home too late. He missed whatever put Blaine in this mood, and now he’s left with the aftermath.

 

Kurt resists the urge to pull Blaine back into his arms and keep him there.

 

Possibly forever.

 

“I –” Blaine sighs, letting the sentence die before Kurt nods slightly, willing Blaine to continue. “For Theatre Writing, the graduating students always ask underclassmen to sign up to audition, since we need the practice and we have more time.” Kurt stays silent, knowing Blaine’s working to get to what’s actually brothering him. “Anyway, after the announcement in class today some of them caught me in the hall. They said that given my history, they felt it would be better if I sat this one out, that –”

 

“They what?” Kurt hisses the words, knows his eyes are burning in anger. How dare those _idiots_ – because really, only morons would request Blaine to _not audition_ – try to stifle Blaine’s talent.

 

“They know I got kicked out of NYADA.” Kurt barely hears the whispered words, but their lack of volume does nothing to prevent Kurt’s eyes from stinging, his stomach clenching in pain.

 

“Why –” Kurt pauses, takes a moment to brush a kiss to Blaine’s cheek and forcibly lower his voice before continuing, “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“If my depression was bad enough that I couldn’t stay in undergraduate classes how can they trust that I’ll make it to rehearsals and events? What if I have another fight with my significant other?” Blaine keeps his gaze over Kurt’s shoulders, the obviously quoted monotone words soft but just as cutting as they must have been hours before.

 

Kurt forcibly loosens his grip from where he’s bunched his hands in Blaine’s sweatshirt, takes a moment to breathe out the rage that’s eclipsed his vision. Guilt follows, briefly, for arguments and careless words Kurt had thrown out in fear a year ago. But Kurt focuses on Blaine’s arms around him, on the knowledge that they’ve grown.

 

They’re married.

 

He jolts from this thoughts when he realizes Blaine’s speaking again, the words still soft, but his own, “– knew I transferred, but I didn’t tell them why. I guess someone got the full story at an audition or something.”

 

“Only _we_ know the full story,” Kurt snaps. “And they’re idiots; all of them. I can’t believe –”

 

“You know the worst part?” Kurt stills, frozen by Blaine’s words. “I proved them right, in a way. After…I skipped my last class just to get out of there. And I didn’t even get to drink my consolatory coffee because some girl on a cell phone wasn’t watching where she was walking.”

 

“Blaine –”

 

“So I may have come home and stolen your clothes. And then I decided to make muffins, but I found the chocolate so I made brownies too, and there were leftover chocolate chips so there’s cookie dough in the bowl.”

 

Kurt huffs a laugh even as he blinks away tears, picturing Blaine baking away his pain. “I’m not going to fit in to my clothes.”

 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

 

Kurt shakes his head and pulls Blaine in closer, wrapping him in a tight hug. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

 

Blaine sighs against his shoulder before stepping back. “Why don’t you change, too, and then we can cuddle on the sofa?”

 

Kurt nods and heads for the bedroom, makes it two steps before turning back. “Hey, Blaine?”

 

He waits for Blaine to stop, meeting his gaze with a flash of confusion. “Yes?”

 

“They really are idiots; you’re the most talented person I’ve ever met. And one day when your name is up in lights they’ll be lamenting the fact that they passed up the opportunity to have you in their show.”

 

Blaine’s across the room in moments, pulling Kurt in for a kiss. “If my name is ever in lights, it will be because of you.”

 

“When, Blaine,” Kurt teases, ignoring the slightly breathy tone his voice has taken, “When your name is in lights.”

 

“You’re very certain.”

 

“I meant it when I said you’re the most talented person I know. Now,” Kurt looks toward the kitchen, “why don’t you put that cookie dough away – we can make them tomorrow – and pick out a movie?”

 

“What about the brownies?”

 

“Just make sure they’re covered,” Kurt pauses, offers Blaine a smile. “We can have them for breakfast.”

 

“Brownies for breakfast?” Blaine’s voice betrays his surprise, and Kurt stifles a laugh at his husband’s widened eyes.

 

“Of course. Tomorrow’s a new day, and no day can be bad when you have brownies for breakfast.”

 

“So you’re preempting any bad news?”

 

“Brownies for breakfast, Blaine. What do you think?”

 

Kurt turns toward their bedroom then, leaving Blaine laughing behind him. A day that begins with brownies cannot go poorly, but Kurt has never played fair when it comes to caring for the people he loves.

 

So if he has plans to speak to a certain NYADA director about how lax her students are getting with professionalism, well, that’s his own prerogative. And if he plans to drop by NYU with a surprise lunch for Blaine just to show how much he loves his husband, well, Blaine _is_ the cutest.

 

When he returns to the living room minutes later, Blaine is curled into a corner of the sofa, though he holds the blanket open so Kurt can slip in.

 

“Here,” Blaine holds out a bowl once Kurt has settled, “I’m guessing you never had dinner, but I made some soup earlier so –”

 

Kurt laughs even as he carefully takes the steaming bowl. “Did you cook everything in the apartment?”

 

“No?” Blaine offers a smile, “Not everything, but we were planning on going to the store tomorrow, right? Sorry,” Blaine shrugs, “I just – I had a bad day.”

 

Kurt hums around a mouthful of soup before swallowing. “I’m sorry. And I’m not complaining – this is delicious.” Kurt pauses. “Just one bad day; tomorrow will be better.”

 

“Because of brownies for breakfast?”

 

Kurt nods before leaning in to give Blaine a quick kiss. “And then, one day, your name in lights.”

 

 


	4. 05 - Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine loves being Kurt's husband, even when that means saving him from dull conversations at NYADA socials. Blaine takes his duties seriously, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to jessicamdawn and slayerkitty for their betaing of this chapter.

Klaine Advent

05 – Escape

 

 

Blaine sees Kurt’s pained expression from across the room and decides to take pity on his husband. Blaine may not be a current NYADA student, but he remembers the false smiles and polite hellos all in the name of networking.

He also remembers the overly inflated egos.

“Kurt, there you are,” Blaine smoothly interrupts the monologue from the long-haired classmate standing beside Kurt, wrapping his arm around Kurt’s waist, “I was looking for you; we’re going to have to head out soon if you don’t want to be late for that meeting, remember?”

“Of course!” Kurt’s voice is a fraction too high, betraying his relief, but Blaine doubts his (former) conversation partner notices. “Let’s go dig out our coats. Oh –” Kurt turns back in feigned surprise, “I’m sorry, Isaac, but we have to go…”

Kurt really is an amazing actor; Blaine almost believes him. He ducks his head to hide his smile. The classmate – Isaac – accepts the tale, offering a polite and somewhat haughty farewell before stepping away and drawing some other unfortunate student into conversation.

“Not having fun?” Blaine teases as he and Kurt make their way through the crowd, heading for the empty classroom commandeered to hold coats.

Kurt offers a half-hearted glare. “As if you didn’t know already.” Kurt sighs, muttering about the pointlessness of socials after concerts. “Thank you for the interruption. Although a meeting, really? I expected my NYU enrolled husband to come up with better.”

Blaine smiles as they enter the designated coat room. “I could,” Blaine muses, digging through a pile to unearth his black pea coat, “but we actually do have a meeting.”

A small shout of triumph from across from him lets him know Kurt’s been successful too, and even the ensuing grumblings about wrinkles and lint can’t damper his mood. Kurt stops suddenly, leaving his lament about getting white fuzz of black wool unfinished. “We have a meeting? After 9 on a Friday night?”

“We do,” Blaine confirms, helping Kurt slip into his coat, “so we should probably get going.”

“Blaine,” Kurt tightens his grip on Blaine’s hand, “I’m tired. Our pre-performance rehearsal was _awful_ – you have no idea. And the concert may have been fine, but you know how much I hate these socials. I really just want to go home,” a pause, “is there a reason you didn’t mention this _meeting_ before now?”

“I didn’t know we had it.”

Kurt glares. “You’re being irritatingly vague,” he whines, “and if you didn’t know, can’t you just move it so we can go home?”

“Nope,” Blaine makes sure to draw out the word, keeping his hand wrapped around Kurt’s as they finally exit the building. “I promise you’ll like it, though.”

He hopes Kurt will like it. It had come to him suddenly, as he’d made his way to save Kurt from the toilsome conversation. It had seemed perfect, but now, with Kurt pouting (adorably, if Blaine’s being honest) Blaine feels a flicker of apprehension.

“I –”

“If you –”

A beat, and then Blaine shakes his laughter, hears Kurt doing the same beside him. They catch their breath at a crosswalk minutes later, and Kurt nods for Blaine to go first.

“I don’t want to force you,” Blaine comments, “if you really don’t want to go, we can just head home instead.”

“No,” Kurt briefly tightens his hold on Blaine’s hand, “you have me curious, now. But if I _don’t_ like it, you’re on dish duty for two weeks.”

“Fair enough,” Blaine agrees, smiling as they cross the street. They walk in silence for several minutes, until he hears Kurt give a small gasp from beside him.

“Blaine, are we –”

“Do you know what I remember best about after I first moved to New York? That day when Rachel wouldn’t stop practicing and Santana was threatening murder and we just walked out because we couldn’t handle it anymore? And we just kept walking, trying to escape the madness and found –”

“– the best milkshakes in New York City.” Kurt finishes, turning to Blaine with a wide smile.

“Even after,” Blaine doesn’t finish the sentence, knows Kurt will understand, “I never told them about it. I liked that it was our place.”

“Santana always thought we were sneaking off to a motel,” Kurt laughs, “and Rachel couldn’t believe that I had a place in the city she didn’t know. Well,” Kurt shakes his head, “she couldn’t believe it was decent, especially when I wouldn’t tell her where it was.”

Blaine feels his eyebrows raise in shock. “You never told her?”

“No. It was our place. It still is, actually. I couldn’t go back by myself,” Kurt admits, the words a soft murmur, “I just –” Kurt shrugs, “It didn’t seem right.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, hurrying a bit when the small twenty-four hour diner finally comes into view up head. “But after tonight I thought you looked like you could use a milkshake.”

“So that’s our meeting?”

“Disappointed?”

Kurt stops, and Blaine hurries to compensate for the pull on his arm, ending up inches away from his husband. Judging from Kurt’s sly smile, he doesn’t mind; granted, Blaine only gets a glimpse of the smile before he’s pulled in for a kiss. “Never.”

They enter the diner moments later, and Blaine can’t help but smile. There are places in New York that he’ll never visit again due to bad memories, but this place –

_“So imagine my surprise when I get a text right when my shift ends, telling me to stop by for a pre-homework respite.”_

_“Kurt, I got in! You’re looking at the newest member of the Chamber Singers!”_

_“We’re never leaving,” Kurt leans into Blaine from where they’re sharing the booth, ignoring Blaine’s snort of laughter. “I’m serious; we can get sleeping bags or something. But I’m not dealing with one more night of explosion of egos in that loft.”_

– this diner had been an oasis of calm (and ice cream) in their increasingly hectic lives.

“So I don’t have to do the dishes for the next two weeks?” Blaine questions as he leads Kurt to their – thankfully empty – booth. He doesn’t recognize the waitresses behind the counter, but the décor hasn’t changed, is still an eclectic mix of 50s era records and more modern lyrics painted on the walls.

“Not if you remember my favorite milkshake.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “As if I’d forget anything about you.”

Kurt opens his mouth to reply, but the waitress arrives then, and Blaine places their order. He offers Kurt a wink as he orders Kurt’s Mocha-Espresso shake, complete with whip cream and a cherry.

“Okay,” Kurt laughs once the waitress steps away, “Obviously you remember _everything_.”

“Just facts about my husband,” Blaine teases, “with some trivia to keep things interesting.”

“Of course,” Kurt agrees before turning serious and reaching for Blaine’s hand. “Thank you, though, for this. It’s wonderful; exactly what I needed.”

“Ice cream at ten at night?”

“You think you’re funny,” Kurt mutters, “you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know I am,” Blaine replies, matching the serious tone Kurt had set moments before. “I know. And I love you too.”

He pulls Kurt in for a quick kiss then, and pretends he doesn’t hear the waitress’s squeak of excitement.

Kurt’s more important anyway.

 

 


	5. 06 - Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt surprises Blaine with a visit on campus, complete with lunch. Although that's not the end to his surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this prompt fought me a bit more than others, but here's the latest addition. Thanks to all the wonderful reviewers and readers, and a special thanks to jessicamdawn for the quick and helpful beta!

Klaine Advent

06 – Fan

 

 

Blaine takes his time packing up his notebook and pencils, waiting for the crowd of his classmates to pass before heading for the door. He’s too tired to attempt to join the maddening rush, and since he only plans to grab a pretzel from the vender down the block for lunch, he’s in no hurry to brave the December air.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my husband; perhaps you’ve seen him? Future Broadway star, the cutest –”

“Kurt!” Blaine had started to turn before the first sentence was finished, leaving his bag sitting on his desk, the strap still swinging as Blaine scrambles to cross the room. “Kurt – everything’s ok, right? I just – I thought you had a shift at the diner?”

“I may have switched shifts so I could bring you lunch. But you were _taking so long_ I couldn’t stand waiting any more so…” Kurt holds up a bag in his right hand while making jazz motions with his left, “surprise?”

Blaine stares.

Kurt’s still smiling, though he lowers his arms during the ensuing silence, setting the bag on the desk closest to him. Blaine gapes for a moment more before hurrying around the rows the desks, skidding to a stop before Kurt and reaching out, pulling him into a kiss even as his arms curl around Kurt for support.

He manages to pull back moments later, offering a smile even as he ignores the blush he feels heating his cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kurt murmurs, and Blaine’s smile widens as he takes in the breathless quality of the words.

“So,” Blaine muses as he keeps his arms around Kurt, “to what do I owe this surprise lunch?”

“I can’t have just wanted to see my husband?”

“Kurt –”

“I saw your notebook last night,” Kurt answers, “for your theatre class. I’m going to assume you just forgot to tell me that you’re Polinices –”

“It’s an in-class production,” Blaine interrupts, “so we didn’t even have auditions.” Blaine gives a small laugh, “We don’t even have an audience for _Antigone_ ; we’re just borrowing the theatre space next week –”

“You’ll still be the best Polinices; your professor wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise.”

“You’re biased.”

“Perhaps,” Kurt smiles and steps back. “Just get your bag, Blaine. Even surprise lunches have a schedule.”

Blaine gives a small hop backwards and heads for his bag. “Why are we having one, again? Don’t think I didn’t notice how you skipped over my question.”

Kurt laughs and picks up the bag he’d set on the desk. “Maybe I was just hoping to spend time with the best Polinices to grace the stage – after all,” Kurt winks, “I’m your number one fan.”

“Cute,” Blaine comments as he shrugs into his coat and throws his bag over his shoulder, “So, my ‘number one fan’ – what’s next?”

“C’mon,” Kurt teases, taking Blaine’s arm once he comes into range, “the lobby I passed looked like it had some comfy chairs; I think they’re calling our names.”

“It is a five-star establishment,” Blaine agrees, allowing Kurt to lead him down the hall.

Slips of conversations echo off the tiled floor, but Blaine ignores them, keeping his focus on Kurt. They arrive in the lobby a few minutes later, and Blaine takes a seat (pushing his chair so it rests beside Kurt’s), feels his eyebrows raise as Kurt pulls out the tablecloth from their dinette set, followed by a large thermos and several plastic containers of food.

“Kurt –”

“Wait!” Kurt turns to his own messenger bag, pulling out napkins and silverware. “Now we’re ready.”

“You’re amazing,” Blaine shakes his head, “but really, Kurt. What’s the occasion?” Blaine pauses, leaning to the side so he can take Kurt’s hand. “I didn’t forget something, did I?”

“I already told you,” Kurt smiles, “I’m your biggest fan.”

“You’re _impossible_.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt deftly begins serving from the various containers, splitting sandwiches and chilled pasta salad before pouring coffee from the thermos.

Blaine feels himself relaxing as Kurt shares the latest NYADA gossip, complete with complaints of Rachel’s latest attempt to convince Kurt to duet with her in Central Park.

“I hope you told her you already have a duet partner,” Blaine replies.

“Trust me,” Kurt’s voice holds a touch of annoyance, “she knows.”

Blaine laughs, reaching to give Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad; I like our duets.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Kurt teases, reaching to steal the last bite of Blaine’s pasta salad. “Anyway,” Kurt continues, moving to put lids back on containers, offering Blaine a quick smile when he moves to help, “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? I know this probably took longer than you planned…”

“My class isn’t til two,” Blaine comments as he begins folding up the tablecloth, “but what about you? What’s the _actual schedule_ of my amazing husband?”

“Funny,” Kurt finishes wiping off the silverware with the extra napkins, “and I’m not due at the diner til three. But I meant,” Kurt pauses, glancing around the lobby, “I’m not keeping you from your friends, am I?”

“No,” Blaine draws out the word so it sounds more of a question by the end, leaning forward again to catch Kurt’s gaze. “Kurt, what –”

“I was actually hoping you’d say that,” Kurt interrupts, “because I had one more surprise planned.”

“Kurt –”

“Here,” Blaine startles back at the interruption, staring at the small wrapped package in Kurt’s hand, “Just a little something.”

Blaine stares at the package for a moment, taking in its square shape. A glance to Kurt shows his husband leaning forward in his seat, his face a mix of eagerness and apprehension.

Blaine unwraps the present, setting the ripped paper on the table before staring at the frame in his hands.

Inside, a copy of the _OMEA Regionals 2011 Program_ sits, placed so Blaine’s name as a soloist rests centered behind the glass, with his and Kurt’s signatures (done at Mr. Hummel’s request) penned off to the side.

“I don’t –”

“You’re amazing,” Kurt murmurs from his chair, “and I’m sorry that those _stupid_ seniors can’t see that, I am. But you’ll kill your performance in _Antigone_ , I know it, and soon I’m sure you’ll be inundated with love-struck admirers. I just wanted to remind you, before that, that you already have a number one fan,” Kurt nods to the frame, “and I’ve believed in you from the beginning.”

Blaine is out of the chair within seconds, the frame trapped between them as he pulls Kurt in for a kiss.

He hears a whistle from behind him, whispers of conversation he ignores in favor of tightening his hold on Kurt until an especially loud shout has them pulling apart, laughing.

“ _Thank you_.” Blaine whispers, staying close.

“And here I thought that’s what the kiss meant,” Kurt teases.

The only acceptable response is to pull Kurt in for another kiss, even as Blaine’s already mentally going through his scrapbooks and loose pictures his got from Carole; after all, he’s Kurt’s biggest fan, too.

 


	6. 07 - Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's had a bad day. Luckily for him, Blaine has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the continued support, and I'm sorry this is a bit late! Thanks to dlanadhz for the beta and to slayerkitty and jessicamdawn for the feedback and brainstorming.

Klaine Advent

07 – Guide

 

Kurt frees his keys from his bag, feeling far too much pride from the small action, before turning to open his apartment door.

Only to stop seconds later, keys still jingling in his hand, when he sees a Post-It placed just to the left of the handle.

_Kurt,_

_Sorry you had a crappy day. Hopefully tonight will make it better!_

_< 3 B_

A smile Kurt thought would be impossible after his afternoon spreads regardless, and Kurt carefully plucks the note from the door, keeping it in his left hand as he unlocks the door with his right. The inside of the apartment is dim, the small light from over the stove blending with a few scattered candles.

From the stereo, a CD of Blaine’s piano pieces (a remnant from their first foray into a long-distance relationship) plays through the speakers and Kurt relishes in the comforting sound.

“It’s not brownies for breakfast,” Kurt turns at Blaine’s voice, finds his husband leaning against the dinette table, “but after hearing about the ‘Study Guide from Hell’ I figured you deserved some relaxation.”

“Well,” Kurt sets his bag on the floor (but keeps the Post-it) and nods to the shimmering candles, “I can’t fault you for style.”

Blaine hums and moves to take Kurt’s coat, “Thanks; dinner should be ready soon, if you want to change.”

“And here I thought you liked my outfits.”

Blaine huffs a laugh at the teasing remark, “Oh, I do. But,” he winks and Kurt hopes the candles hide the seriousness of his blush because his husband is _ridiculous_. “I thought you might want something more comfortable than fashionable, after your day.”

“Are you saying I can’t do both?”

“I know better than to question your abilities when it comes to clothes.” Blaine turns back toward the kitchen, “But really…”

“I’m going,” Kurt calls as he walks backward toward the hallway, “I can take a hint.”

He ignores Blaine’s shout of mock irritation, finally turning and entering their bedroom. He flips on the light, smiling when he sees the cause of Blaine’s suggestion.

A Dalton hoodie that’s stretched as Blaine’s grown lays on the bed.

_Your clothes always seem comfier than mine after a bad day._

_Hopefully it works for you, too. It won’t be quite as loose on you_

_(my tall, fair, and handsome husband) as it is on me, but it’s soft – promise!_

_Love you!_

_-B_

Kurt adds the Post-It to the one still in his hand, smiling as he walks to his dresser and places them in the keepsake box on top. He’ll have to add them to his photo-box later.

For now, though, they’re safe where they are.

He exits the room minutes later, stretching the sleeves of the hoodie over his hands. He pauses in the living room, taking a moment to watch as Blaine rummages in the fridge, bouncing when he leans back a moment later with a bag of grated cheese in his hands.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"Oh!" Blaine spins at Kurt's comment, "The cheese was hiding." He offers a smile and moves to open the oven door. "It's just baked pasta, but -"

"It smells delicious," Kurt interrupts, "I'm sure it will taste amazing, too."

"That's the hope," Blaine pulls the lid off the casserole dish, sprinkling some cheese on top before pushing it back in the oven. "So I was right?"

"Hm?" Kurt questions, smiling as Blaine crosses to him.

"That's a nice hoodie, Kurt."

"It is," Kurt agrees, "my husband left it for me."

Blaine smiles. "Why don't you go relax on the sofa, maybe pull up something on _Netfllix_."

"I'm thinking it's a Disney night: _Hercules_ or _The Aristocats_?"

"Nope," Blaine shakes his head. "The person having the bad day gets to choose." He turns back toward the oven before Kurt can manage a reply, "I'll bring in the pasta when it's done."

"You're making me dinner _and_ I get to choose the movie?"

"Of course," Blaine sings from the kitchen, "you had a bad day."

Kurt laughs and moves to the sofa, sinking down into the cushions with a sigh. He reaches for the remote moments later, smiling when he sees the Post-It on top.

_It is your choice, but singing (especially with you)_

_always makes me feel better! :)_

Blaine's piano pieces still stream from the speakers, and Kurt leaves the music as he pulls up his _Netflix_ menu - he feels no need to silence the music yet; he leans back into the cushions and pulls down the blanket, letting his mind drift.

"Here," Kurt opens his eyes and Blaine's before him, two steaming bowls in his hands. "I wasn't sure if you'd want water to help relax or more caffeine to help prepare for later."

Kurt groans. "At some point I have to read some more -"

"– of the 'Study Guide from Hell'?"

"Unfortunately," Kurt mutters as Blaine sets the bowls on the table. "Although I'd much prefer to burn it."

"Well," Blaine gestures to the candles, "we have fire."

Kurt collapses in laughter, hugging the blanket against his chest. "We'd burn the building down."

"Maybe," Blaine agrees, "so - you want a soda?"

"Please," Kurt murmurs. "And thanks, for..." Kurt lets the sentence die, gesturing instead to the candles and dinner – everything.

"Least I could do," Blaine calls as he heads back to the kitchen.

"It's too much," Kurt comments as Blaine takes his seat beside him, carefully taking the can of soda and setting it on the end table before reaching for his bowl.

"It's not, really," Blaine counters with a smile. "And besides - there's still dessert."

"I thought you said there weren't any brownies -"

"Cookies, Kurt," Blaine nods toward the kitchen. "Double chocolate chip."

"You made cookies, too?"

"Of course - it's in the _Guide to Kurt Hummel-Anderson_ \- cookies always make it better." Blaine gives Kurt a chaste kiss. "And you had a bad day."

"Lucky for me, I have you to make it better."

Blaine smiles and hands Kurt the remote.


End file.
